


After

by sad_max



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), implied supreme family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 04:13:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15283392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sad_max/pseuds/sad_max
Summary: It's time to go home.





	After

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU DAD tiny_tony_stark FOR BETA-READING AND HELPING ME EDIT MY FIC I FUCKING LOVE YOU

A tingling in the back of Peter's mind warns him of an upcoming threat. Alarms blare in his head as his eyes flutter open, only to immediately close them again because it’s _too_ bright and vivid for his heightened eyesight. He takes a deep breath, preparing himself for whatever it was that his senses deem so important, and then…

And then he hears a voice.

 _"No, no-"_ Frightened, worried, anxious.

And he hears another one.

 _"Not again."_ Tired, sickly sweet, concerned.

And his eyes snap open.

There's dust drifting through the air as he watches his idols, his _friends,_ around him start to vanish one by one. _Not again,_ he thinks to himself, _God, please, not again._

Peter feels eyes on him, and his head whips around to face someone sitting only a few feet away from him—Stephen. He's looking at Peter, almost sad, and it looks like he just woke up, too. He mutters something, but Peter can't quite hear him. "Mr. Strange-"

 _"It's time, Pete. It's alright,"_ is all he catches.

And Stephen's gone, too.

Peter stares at the spot where Stephen _just_ was, detached as he watches the sorcerer's dust disperse into the air. Absently, he notices his lower lip quivering and his hands trembling.

Suddenly, Peter feels pain spread throughout his body, his heartbeat spike, and his breathing stop. His eyes avert to his shaking hands, and he watches his solid skin turn to ash. He watches as his body becomes no longer, watches as he becomes just more dust to the atmosphere.

And he's gone, too.

* * *

 

Peter's awake mere _seconds_ after he experienced his second death. The first thing he notices is that he's _not_ in a crystallized yellow room, rather he’s back where he originally died. It's night, though, instead of the soft sunset last time he was here. He gazes at the stars and purple dust sprinkling the twilight sky. He takes note of the gentle contrast it holds against the soft orange soil of the moon. It smells of dirt and stardust.

His breath catches in his throat when he's pulled up from behind, but he doesn't have enough time to react before two trembling hands are wrapping around him, and he instantly recognizes who it is. As a thick fabric wraps around him, the words _"Let's take you home,"_ play like a soft lullaby meant only for him to hear.

A warmth, both physical and emotional, spreads throughout his body as the scenery around him transforms yet again. It's no longer night, and he's no longer on Titan, but instead in what he could only describe as a swirling mess of golden yellow. There isn't ground, and it feels like he's flying, _lifting_ into the sky, giving him a sense of dread. The feeling lasts until he crashes to hard floor a moment later. The hands gently pull him back up, and the cloak unwraps from around him.

Peter's in a room filled with an immeasurable amount of expensive, ancient artifacts. He hears a soft whimper, and for a minute he thinks its Stephen's, but then he realizes _Mr. Strange doesn't cry. Why would he be crying?_ Stephen grips him by the shoulders and turns him around, and Peter's eyes meet with a face he hasn't seen in _months_ , possibly even _years_. Those large, inky eyes are staring him down, and all Peter can do is watch as they mist over, tears forming in the corners.

Peter doesn't even register his feet moving him toward the man, but he does register his arms wrapping around him _tight,_ and Peter feels as though it could last forever. One hand is buried in Peter's hair and the other is against his back like concrete, and they're so _warm_ and _shaky_ and _scared_.

"Mr. Stark," is all Peter can muster out before Tony's shaking harder and holding him impossibly tighter. "Mr. Stark, I-"

"Never scare me like that _again_ ," Tony breathes desperately into his ear, his voice cracking on the last word. There's so much heartbreak and determination in that sentence that Peter just _melts_ into Tony's hold. He presses his forehead against Tony's shoulder, and he lets out a shaky sigh as he wraps his arms around the man.

"I won't. I promise."

**Author's Note:**

> dabs into the abyss


End file.
